The Magic of Air Conditioning
by Airyfairy13
Summary: One hot, lazy afternoon in Camelot, Regina asks Robin to move in with her on their return to Storybrooke.


**Very short one-shot set in canon verse. Robin and Regina get to talking about home and their future. This is my first OUAT fic - Outlaw Queen til I die. Reviews very much welcome and appreciated.**

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It's not so bad, Camelot. Well, it _is_. It's hot and humid, she doesn't trust a single person within these walls and the one person they need to restore Emma's light magic is no less a tree than when they'd arrived two weeks ago. But now, lying in the private of her bedroom, the late afternoon light bathing the walls in warm orange and Robin's fingers tracing light patterns over her spine, she thinks it's not so bad.

It's the first time since their return with the second curse that they've had a chance to breathe. To talk. To fall asleep tangled together and then wake up to lazy kisses and wandering hands. He knows her better than anyone and they love each other deeply but, what with helpful interference from Zelena, the author and now Emma's foray into darkness, they haven't had many chances to simply enjoy each other's company.

And granted, most of the time Regina's focus is all on freeing Merlin so they can save Emma and head home. But on days like today when her brain had been abuzz with failed spells and her frustration had spilled over in hot angry tears, she has no problem letting Robin hold her close, murmur soothing encouragements into her hair and convince her it will do her good to take a break as he leads her back to the bedchamber they share.

Sometimes she sleeps and he simply holds her. Other days she needs to burn off the tense guilt she feels that Emma put herself into this predicament to save her and she pulls Robin to her, their kisses hot and hard as they undress each other with practiced ease and he brings her to blissful, trembling oblivion. And then afterwards they lie like this, bodies sweaty in the close Camelot heat, their legs entwined and their bodies pressed together as she tries to get as close to him as she physically can, and they doze or they talk or they simply lie together.

So yes, she thinks, Camelot has its merits despite the gut-wrenching reminders of a life she wants to forget; of balls she was forced to attend, and of small boys who have grown up desperate for revenge— The memory of Robin bleeding out on the table while she stood helpless rears up once more and she screws her eyes shut and her hand clenches around Robin's bicep. Robin gives a slight start as he feels the bite of her nails and the sudden tension coiled in her previously sated limbs, before bending to kiss the top of her head. These moments are not uncommon - she's often plagued by nightmares of her past deeds and he has learned to recognise the signs.

'Shhh,' he whispers into her hair, even though she hasn't said anything. 'It's alright.' And it _is_ alright, he's still here, she can feel his heart beating in his chest. He's alright.

She nods slightly and tips her head back so she can kiss him, her fingers tracing the rough stubble of his jawline. Their lips part with a soft sound and she drops her head back to his shoulder says with a sigh, 'I should get back to the library.'

But his arms tighten around her as he says, 'Not just yet, milady. I'd like to hold on to you a moment longer if I may.'

'But Emma—' she begins, before he interrupts.

'Fifteen more minutes, Regina. Just fifteen minutes.' 

Pushing away another pang of guilt that she can lie warm and loved while Emma is being tormented by the darkness she settles back into him, her fingers tracing his shoulder. They lie in silence for a minute or two, Robin pleased with his little victory. Their path to each other has been so rocked by heartbreak and uncertainty that every minute together feels like a gift. He's just wondering if he might be able to steal a bit of food from the kitchen and convince her to take the rest of the night off so she has no reason to leave this bed until morning when her hand moves to push her sweat-dampened hair off her face and she says with a groan, 'What I wouldn't give for an air conditioning unit.'

He chuckles lightly, 'What makes you say that?'

She looks up at him, 'Don't you? The heat here is oppressive.'

'Well, I didn't have quite as much time to get used to the conveniences of the unmagical world as you did.' She inclines her head slightly, acknowledging the truth of his statement. 'And while I _was_ getting rather fond of pizza and modern plumbing, I must admit it's nice to be back in these clothes. I'm not sure who invented jeans but I can't say he had any care for comfort.'

She arches her brow and grins at him, agreeing, 'I can't say I mind you being back in those tight trousers either.'

They fall silent again. His hand has found its way into her hair and is tracing light swirls on her scalp. 'Were you happy in Storybrooke?'

The question catches him off guard. 'What?' he asks, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he draws away from her so he can look into her eyes.

She sighs and moves to pull away from him slightly, shifting off his chest and settling onto her side. He turns towards her, mirroring her position so they lay facing each other on the pillow and hooking his foot between her legs, unwilling to lose contact completely.

'I mean,' she continues, 'if we found a way, would you want to go back to the Enchanted Forest? It was your home.'

His frown deepens, and his hand comes up to meet hers lying between them on the bed, lacing their fingers together as he thinks.

'It was an adjustment,' he starts hesitantly, his eyes still on their entwined fingers. 'I can't deny there were times at the beginning when I wanted nothing more than to be walking beneath the trees of Sherwood Forest again.' His gaze rises to meet hers then and he gives her hand a little squeeze, 'But then I met you. And I learned the ways of this new world and there's no doubt it's a better place for Roland to grow up. Even without the obvious things like antibiotics and proper school, it feels safer for a child.'

'So you don't want to go back?'

'Do you?' he counters.

She shakes her head, her gaze falling to his shoulder, 'Never. But that world never held anything but torment for me. I lost everyone I loved, I let the darkness consume me, I… Well, you know what I did.' He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her forehead but doesn't interrupt. 'And Storybrooke is where I've had my life with Henry, it's where I found a family and learned to use light magic and where I…' She trails off before raising her eyes to meet his again, 'It's where I fell in love.' And she gives him a smile of such sweet happiness that he feels his heart thud with love for her and he beams back. 'The Enchanted Forest was little more than a prison for me. Storybrooke's my home.'

'And so it will now be mine,' he says simply.

'Robin—' she starts, but he cuts her off.

'I mean it Regina, my home is where you are.'

She still feels completely breathless when he says things like this. She still marvels at his easy belief in her, in possibility, in hope. Before Camelot she'd always been so careful not to discuss their future in any absolute terms - it felt so horribly like tempting fate. But then they'd had to make a plan as to how they were going to deal with Zelena and the baby and it had become undeniably apparent that they were going to be factoring each other into their lives. For good, it seemed.

'When we get back to Storybrooke…' His heart soars as he registers her use of 'when' instead of her usual pessimistic 'if' - spending so much time with the Charmings seems to be rubbing off on her. 'When we get back,' she continues. 'Will you and Roland stay in the forest with the Merry Men or would you like to…' she trails off, hesitant, uncertain.

'Regina,' he says with a grin, flashing those infuriatingly beautiful dimples. 'Are you asking us to move in with you?'

She laughs softly, leaning towards him and giving him a brief kiss before nipping his bottom lip with her teeth, 'Yes, thief. I am.'

He gathers her into his arms and rolls her beneath him before kissing her deeply - slow and soft at first before she parts her lips for him and they become hot and full of promise. When his lips leave hers to trail hot, tongue-filled kisses down her neck she inhales sharply and breathes, 'Do I take this as a yes?'

He pulls back to look into her eyes once more, 'That's a yes. That's a definite definite yes.'


End file.
